Harry Potter and the FanFiction Tropes
by ShaperV
Summary: A collection of shorts and one-shots pitting the HP cast against the most terrifying opponent of all - silly fanfiction plots!
1. Veela Draco

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nor do I particularly want to. Now if Nymphadora Tonks ever goes on the market, all bets are off...

* * *

Harry sighed quietly as Snape's lecture on the five uses of cockatrice spleens faded from his awareness. His gaze was fixed on a head of blond hair two tables over. A refined, aristocratic face. Smart formal robes that fit perfectly even now at the end of the year. Those lips, so kissable, and eyes he could get lost in…

A wandless stinging hex brought his attention back to the classroom. "That will be three feet of parchment on the topic of today's lecture, Mr. Potter," the greasy-haired potions professor drawled. "Due the day after tomorrow. Now, class is over. All of you turn in your potions and get out."

Harry blinked in confusion. Then he realized what he'd just been thinking and paled. Fortunately Draco hadn't noticed.

_Oh, my god. No, it isn't possible. I'm not…I can't be…and even if I was, he's a git…but a sexy git…oh, god, this can't be happening…._

His panic was cut short by Snape's curt "Was there something you needed, Mr. Potter?"

He licked his lips nervously. "Sir," he asked hesitantly, "how do you tell if you've been dosed with a love potion?"

Because after all, what else could it be?

"You don't," Snape replied snidely. "That is why they're illegal. If you've been so foolish as to fall prey to such a ploy, you'll just have to wait for it to wear off. Of course," he went on with a hint of malicious glee, "Amortentia is permanent. Now, off with you. I have papers to grade, from students who might actually benefit from my instruction."

-oOoOo-

Three days later Harry was at his wit's end. If anything the feelings were getting worse, and he'd been forced to confide in Hermione in his search for a cure. To his relief she'd actually taken it seriously, once he'd convinced her he wasn't a poofter.

"So, you're sure you've always fancied girls, Harry?" She'd asked, as if there was any question.

"Yes!" He'd insisted.

"Just in general, or anyone specific? Because I've read that sometimes boys just assume they must be attracted to girls until they learn otherwise. I know you haven't dated, although you certainly could, so unless there's some particular girl…"

"Just because I'm not in love with anyone doesn't mean I fancy blokes." He'd protested. "I've… ah… checked girls out. Even had, you know, um… fantasies."

"Anyone I know?" She'd pressed, obviously not sure whether to believe him.

"You," he'd admitted with a blush. "Sorry, I know you don't see me that way, but, well, you are pretty."

"That's alright, Harry," she'd reassured him with a smile. "Anyone else?"

"Ginny," he admitted. "Susan, after she started filling out. And, um, Luna, after that time she came to a DA meeting in those shorts…"

Hermione chuckled. "That's perfectly understandable, Harry. Alright, maybe you have been potioned. I'll see what I can turn up."

Unfortunately her initial research had only confirmed what Snape had told him. Worse, the sorts of potions a student might use for pranking all wore off after a few days. As the week wore on and this new obsession lingered it was looking more and more like he'd been dosed with Amortentia.

Finally Sunday rolled around, and he found himself being dragged to a meeting in an empty classroom by a determined but uncommunicative Hermione. That was bad enough, but when they entered the room and he found Luna, Susan and Ginny all waiting for them his heart nearly stopped. What on earth was she thinking?

"Oh, come on, Harry!" She exclaimed as she pulled him into the room. "Just trust me, will you? This is the only way we can help you, and there isn't much time."

"What's going on, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"It appears that someone managed to slip Harry a dose of Amortentia," Hermione explained grimly. Ginny and Susan both gasped, and Luna's expression became distinctly more focused.

"Merlin!" Susan exclaimed. "Wait, you don't think it was one of us, do you?"

"No, that's not it," Hermione replied. "I think we can be confident it was either a Slytherin trying to get at Harry, or an enemy of…the person the potion was keyed to. We'll have to find out who, and how, but that can wait. The important thing is that the only way to break an Amortentia imprint is to replace it with another one within the first two weeks."

"But Hermione, Amortentia is illegal," Ginny objected.

"Actually, that's not quite true," Susan corrected. "Using it on another without their permission is illegal. But pureblood couples sometime take doses keyed to each other as part of their wedding ceremony, so knowing use is allowed so long as it's mutual. But it seems a little drastic. Who was the other potion keyed to, anyway? Pansy?"

"Draco," Harry admitted miserably. The three girls stared at him.

"I'll do it!" Ginny and Luna announced simultaneously, with Susan only a moment behind.

Luna giggled. "Oh, my. Are we all going to share, then? Or shall we duel for him?"

Susan blushed, and backed away. "Oh no, you kicked my arse enough times in the DA meetings last year. Besides, shouldn't Harry get a say?"

"Harry is still telling himself this can't be happening," Harry said. "What do you mean, you'll do it? You can't be serious."

"I've fancied you off and on most of my life, Harry," Ginny explained with a blush. "I was trying to give you time to notice me, but now we don't have that luxury. Besides, you saved my life. It's only fair I pay you back by saving you from Draco's basilisk," she joked.

"You never called me Loony," Luna said simply.

"You're a hero, Harry," Susan interjected. "Any girl would be lucky to have you. But I'll admit I'm not in love with you yet, so I won't stand in Ginny's way. Even if I do have much bigger baps."

Luna giggled. "I like your baps, Susan. But you're right, four would be much more complicated."

Ginny eyed the blonde Ravenclaw nervously. "Er, Luna, I'm not a witch's witch."

"Of course not, Ginny. If you were you wouldn't have played 'Marry Harry' so often when we were little. But we can key each potion to two people as easily as one. Or did you want to duel me instead?"

"No dueling!" Harry put in. "This is weird enough as it is. I don't want anyone getting hurt over me."

"There, you see? We'll just have share," Luna said serenely.

Ginny gaped at her childhood friend. "But Luna, what will people think?"

Luna cocked her head. "Before or after Harry defeats You-Know-Who, topples the Ministry, and becomes the most powerful wizard in the world?"

Ginny's mouth worked silently.

"Ah…" Harry began, but couldn't quite see how to set Luna straight in a way she'd believe.

"You know I'll back you, Harry," Hermione confirmed, with that slight quirk of the lips that said she was kidding, but the answer would be the same if he asked her for real.

"I'm in," Susan said quietly. As far as Harry could tell she was serious.

"Fine! I'll do it," Ginny snapped. "But you owe me, Luna!"

Luna wrapped her arms around the fiery redhead's waist, and whispered something in her ear. Ginny blushed brightly. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but found that his imagination was working overtime trying to guess what Luna was saying. Something pervy, obviously. Something that probably involved Ginny and Luna naked, in the same bed, in love with each other as well as him…

"Right, then," Hermione said briskly. "I'll need each of you to sign one of these statements saying you intend to use the potion consensually, just in case I'm caught brewing it. We're short on time, so I'd best get started right away."

-oOoOo-

Three months later, in the Daily Prophet:

**Dark Lord Missing!**

After a blood-chilling reign of terror following the tragic death of Albus Dumbledore, the Dark Lord has suddenly gone missing. Eye witnesses report that the most powerful dark wizard of our age was moving to seize control of the Ministry itself when he was suddenly engulfed in a blinding column of golden light. Moments later he was heard to scream "Damn you, Harry Potter! Too…much…happiness…" Then the light flared even brighter, and faded away to leave nothing but a pile of ash and a charred wand.

Needless to say, the entire country is waiting with baited breath to discover the true meaning of this startling development…

**Boy-who-Lives Married**

The Daily Prophet has discovered that Harry Potter, the famous boy-Who-Lived, was married three days ago in an unconventional ceremony involving two brides! The identities of the new ladies Potter were kept secret to protect their families, but sources say that with the disappearance of You-Know-Who the happy trio may make a public appearance when they return from their honeymoon…

**Secret Malfoy Shame Revealed!**

Draco Malfoy, the only son of convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, was admitted to St. Mungo's three days ago with what was eventually diagnosed as an advanced case of Veela Mate-Refusal Disorder. Yes, that's right readers, the heir to the 'pureblood' Malfoy family was actually part veela. Sadly, it appears that whoever his magic had settled on as a mate has failed to respond to his attraction aura. Perhaps the poor girl died in the recent fighting, or was forcibly taken overseas by her family. The world may never know, for Draco has been comatose since his arrival and is not expected to recover.


	2. Time Turner Training

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter

**AN**: For such a bright girl Hermione certainly doesn't seem very curious. Pity, because things could have gone very differently if she'd made the most of her opportunities.

* * *

The curtains around the bed were tightly closed, protected by both silencing and locking charms. The young witch within held a fragile hourglass in one hand, and her wand in the other.

"Alright, it's nine now. I swear on my magic that if another time turner does not arrive on my bed in the next ten minutes I will wait until just after ten, and send this one back in time one hour. But if a second time turner does appear, I won't send mine back. So mote it be!"

She noted the momentary glow of the magical oath taking effect, and then settled back to wait. Barely a minute later a time turner appeared in the air before her, and fell into her lap.

"Yes!" She hissed with a fierce grin. "I knew the past couldn't really be immutable. Reflecting a sunbeam is as much of a change as killing your grandfather, as far as the laws of physics are concerned. If you can do one and not the other, that obviously implies that whatever stops you has a human perspective. So, there must be someone out there who wants people to think you can't change the past, and all I have to do is avoid drawing their attention. That shouldn't be hard, since I've got no interest in doing such a thing."

"Let's see now, if I were a meddling old headmaster who was willing to murder his oldest friend just to keep Voldemort away from the Philosopher's Stone, where would I never think to look for an illicit artifact?"

The spare time turner spent the remainder of the year taped to the inside of a box of tampons.

-oOoOo-

"Harry, may I borrow your cloak of invisibility for a day?"

"I suppose so, Hermione. But what do you need it for?"

"Well, I talked Professor Lupin into giving me a one-day pass to the restricted section for that research project we're supposed to turn in next week, and I wanted to make the most of it."

Ron stared at her. "You're going to hide in the library after it closes so you can spend all night reading? Hermione, that's completely mental!"

If he'd followed her to the library that evening Harry probably would have seconded that opinion. With a Quick-Copy Quill and a couple of fresh notebooks it took three or four hours to copy each book. With six quills and a hefty stack of notebooks she could copy a whole shelf in three or four time turns, and the boxed lunches she'd obtained from the kitchen would keep for a week. It was an odd way to spend the weekend, but she could read while the quills worked.

Hermione surveyed the shelves of the restricted section, set up six workstations for the quills, and mentally double-checked her system for ensuring that no book was overlooked or copied twice. Then she turned to an empty corner in the back of the last aisle, and waited.

A tall stack of notebooks appeared, a time turner perched atop the pile with its chain wrapped around them. A moment later a second pile appeared, then a third, fourth, fifth, sixth…

Humming softly to herself, Hermione produced the self-expanding trunk she'd persuaded her parents to buy her over the summer and set about organizing her new collection.

-oOoOo-

"Odd-looking coins," the pawn shop clerk told her. "What are they?"

"No idea," Hermione claimed innocently. "We found them in the attic."

"Hmm. Well, they're real gold alright. Obviously not very old, so I'd say the only value is the actual metal. I'll give you four hundred pounds for the lot of them."

"Deal," Hermione replied thoughtfully. Apparently the Gringott's exchange rates were last updated sometime in the early nineteenth century. So, change the money back to galleons at the official 5-to-1 rate, sell those at the next shop down the road, head back to Gringott's…

Hermione decided it felt rather nice to be rich. But she was definitely going to have to master apparition soon.

-oOoOo-

"You don't understand, Hermione," Lavender exclaimed. "Cosmetics are one thing, but permanent beauty potions are incredibly hard to make. It takes a master potion brewer, and even the less complicated potions take weeks to brew, so they're terribly expensive. But what's worse is that the Ministry requires potion masters to file regular reports on their sales, so everyone would know! Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be for all your friends and rivals and potential dates to know you had to resort to magic to look pretty? It would ruin any girl's prospects!"

"I see," Hermione mused, still fuming a bit over the way Ron's eyes were glued to that French slag's arse every time she walked by. At least Harry had some control.

Then a thought struck. "A potion master, you say? So, we're talking about the sort of person who could brew Polyjuice Potion as a second-year student?"

"Exactly," Lavender confirmed. Then she frowned. "Wait, you aren't thinking…"

"Obliviate," Hermione replied sweetly.

-oOoOo-

Harry had been relieved when Hermione offered to help him prepare for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the spells she'd turned up for the first task had certainly been helpful. Between his flying skills and her Flame-Shield Charm getting the egg had been almost easy. But being alone with his best friend had become a new source of stress recently.

Hermione burst out of the water, and he was again reminded that his bushy-haired friend was most definitely a girl. She'd always been mature for her age, but apparently sometime in the last few months the breast fairy had come to visit. Her one-piece bathing suit clung to every curve of an hourglass figure to rival anything he'd glimpsed in those magazines the Weasley twins sold in the boys' dorms, and he found himself cursing the fact that this vision of perfection would soon be hidden beneath a Hogwarts robe again. He'd known for nearly a year that Ron fancied her, but the temptation to make a move himself was quickly becoming unbearable. If that git didn't get his head out and make a move soon he was going to find out the hard way that he wasn't the only fish in the sea.

Hermione noted his reaction with a smug smile, and chalked up the first round of potions as a success. Now if she could just tame her hair, and perhaps add a couple of those health and longevity brews…

But first, she had to keep her best friend alive.

"I think you're right, Harry. They'll put something you treasure at the bottom of the lake, with the merfolk guarding it. That means you'll need a way to breath underwater, vision and tracking charms, and some sort of spell to deal with the merfolk. Come to think of it, if whoever put your name in the goblet really is trying to get you killed it might be smart to study battle magic anyway."

Harry managed to force his eyes up to her face, and after a moment his brain resumed operation. "It takes years to really master battle magic, Hermione. I've done a bit of work on it, but I don't want to spread myself too thin."

"Oh, I didn't mean you should study dueling," Hermione explained. "You're right, that would take years. But adult wizards don't expect students to be able to put up a real fight, so it wouldn't be hard to surprise one. The key is to pick one or two effective spells, and train until you can cast them so quick you take down your opponent before he realizes he needs to defend himself. I've got a couple of good books on speed casting you can borrow, and you can get a quick-draw wand holster by owl order."

"I didn't realize you were interested in that sort of thing, Hermione. Maybe you'd like to start practicing together?"

Hermione gave him a startled look. Was he…interested in her? He never had been before, and she'd long since resigned herself to just being friends. With half the witches in school to pick from, why would he settle for a bushy-haired know-it-all like her?

_But now I'm not just a bookworm anymore,_ she realized. _At this rate I could be the prettiest girl in Hogwarts as well as the smartest. Maybe I should set my sights a little higher than Ron._

"I'd like that, Harry," she smiled.

-oOoOo-

"Kill the spare."

"Yes, Master. Avada-"

Harry spun at the sound, and replied with a wordless Stupify that blew their attacker off his feet. The man's cloak flutterred free as he fell, revealing the face of Peter Pettigrew.

"Incompetent fool!" Hissed the bundle. "You can't even handle a pair of schoolboys? Enerv-"

The spell was interrupted by two bolts of red light, one from Harry's wand and the other from among the headstones to his left. Harry stupefied Pettigrew again just to be sure, and turned to the source of the other spell.

Hermione stepped into the light with a nervous smile. "Hello, Harry," she said. "Looks like putting a tracking charm on you was a good idea."

He blinked. "You put a tracking charm on me? Why? Wait, scratch that, stupid question. But how did you get here?"

"I taught myself to apparate over the summer," she replied. "It's illegal, of course, so please don't tell anyone."

Cedric whistled. "Harry, your girlfriend rocks."

"Believe me, I know," Harry replied, before walking over to examine the two prone forms.

Hermione joined him, and frowned. "I recognize Pettigrew, but what's that…thing?"

"Voldemort," Harry said shortly. "Good thing he's not as powerful in this form. Let's get them both secured, and then we can sort out how we're going to get back."

-oOoOo-

"The Draught of Living Death doesn't completely arrest the decay of the homunculus, but it should be several years before it degrades enough to free his soul. So we should have time to finish our schooling before he comes after Harry again."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore nodded, and smiled warmly at the two students who sat in his office. "Well done, both of you. And thank you, Ms. Granger, for trusting me with the truth of this affair."

"You're welcome, sir," she replied with a smile. "So, are you ready to tell Harry why Voldemort is after him, yet?"

"There's no need to worry yourself over that at this juncture, Ms. Granger. With Voldemort imprisoned, you can both be free to enjoy what remains of your childhood."

"We haven't been children since first year, Headmaster," Harry observed heavily. "But if that's your concern, I suppose it can wait until I reach my majority. Either way, we should have plenty of time to get ready for his next try."

"Yes, Harry," Hermione confirmed. "We'll have all the time we need."


	3. The Dark Headmaster

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

AN: Why do so many authors of manipulative!Dumpledore fics make him out to be an incompetent schemer? You don't think he ended up the most powerful man in the wizarding world by spinning plots that fall apart the instant they're discovered, do you?

-oOoOo-

"You ignored my parents' will!"

The door to Dumbledore's office slammed shut behind the angry teen as he stormed across the room. The startled headmaster looked up to find his key weapon in the war against Voldemort looking every bit as angry as the night he'd first heard the prophecy.

"I've seen the copy from the family vault at Gringott's!" Harry continued to rant. "I was never supposed to go to the Dursleys! It should have been the Longbottoms, or the Boneses, or McGonnagal. But never the Dursleys!"

"Now, Harry," the old man began in a conciliatory tone, only to be interrupted.

"Any why didn't I know I had a family vault?" Harry went on. "My account manager says I had over a million galleons when my parents died, but there's barely a tenth of that now! What happened to it?"

"Bonesear told you this?" Dumbledore asked, bemused.

"No, he died last week. Palmcross took over as my account manager yesterday, and owled me first thing. Wait, was Bonesear covering for you? I can't believe this!"

Harry swiped a cluster of whirling gizmos off the headmasters desk, and slammed both hands down. "You've gone too far this time, old man! I'll see you in Azkaban for this!"

Dumbledore's expression turned stern. "Mr. Potter, do calm down," he ordered. "I've done nothing illegal, as you'd know if you had bothered to investigate before storming in here."

"Nothing illegal!" Harry shrieked. "But, the will-"

"Was set aside by the Wizengamot the day after Tom's defeat. For your protection, I might add."

"But, you're stealing my money!" Harry protested.

"All withdrawals were duly authorized by the War Orphans Oversight Committee," the old man explained. "Besides, as your magical guardian I…"

"What! Sirius was supposed to be my magical guardian!" Harry interrupted.

"Well, he could hardly fill that role from Azkaban," Dumbledore pointed out with a hint of humor. "I was appointed by the Wizengamot, Harry. And if you're going to bring up that marriage contract with the Patil twins next, it was set aside with due process as well."

"Marriage contract? What marriage contract? Wait… both of them?"

"Yes, Harry," the master manipulator replied with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. "They were both set to be bound as your personal concubines last summer, which would have caused no end of trouble. Why, we would have had to open up the married student quarters again, and no doubt half the young ladies in Hogwarts would have crept in to visit you over the course of the year. Quite improper."

Harry boggled, and sputtered incoherently. "But…twins…me…girls…argh!"

He threw his hands in the air and gave an incoherent scream of frustration. Dumbledore's silent stunner caught him still looking at the ceiling, and he crumpled into a heap at the foot of the desk. The old man leaned back in his comfortable chair, and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," he sighed. "Always so much trouble. That's three times in only five years, when no one else suspects a thing. I'm afraid you'll just have to die bravely fighting Tom next year. Pity, you're such a handsome lad."

"Ah well, there's no help for it."

He touched a button on one of the strange objects that cluttered his desk, and spoke into the whirling sphere atop the device. "Severus, please fetch a vial of Veritaserum and come to my office. I'm afraid Mr. Potter and his friends are going to need another round of obliviations."


	4. Veela Bonds

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter.

**AN**: Authors of veela bond fics always seem to forget that Harry is a (presumably) horny teenage boy, not a romance-obsessed girl.

* * *

Harry stared at the curvaceous half-veela in shock. Hermione and Ginny seemed equally flabbergasted, so he gathered this wasn't a common situation even in the Wizarding world.

"So, let me see if I have this right, Fluer," he finally managed. "When I saved you from the Grindylows in the lake, your veela magic somehow… er... bonded… to me."

"Yes," Fleur replied sadly. "Now, we must be joined within one month or my magic will turn against itself, and I will die. I'm so sorry, Harry. Believe me, I did not want to force myself on you like this. I… I'll understand if you refuse me."

"Oh, dear," Hermione said. "Harry, I think she's serious. She's even stopped pretending to have trouble with her English. But Fleur, this is terrible. Harry has so many burdens to carry already, and now you want to add what amounts to an arranged marriage on top of it all? No. Surely there must be some other way to fix this."

The French veela hung her head. "No. I'm sorry Harry. I feel terrible, to do this to you. But it has been tried, many times, and always the veela dies in the end. Sometimes the wizard dies as well, and that I could not stand. Better we let nature take its course, so at least only I am in danger."

Harry sighed. "Right, because I'm really going to let an innocent girl die if I can do something to save her."

Ginny snickered. "Considering that you've already saved all three of us at least once, I don't think anyone here is expecting that. I can't believe you've gotten into this situation, though. Only you, Harry."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, looks like fate needs a whipping boy. Alright, Fleur, you'd better explain what's involved in this 'bonding' business. Is this some kind of ritual? Dark blood magic that'll get me sent to Azkaban if I'm found out?"

Fleur blinked in surprise, and found herself suppressing a giggle. "Silly man. I thought it was obvious? Oh, but you are English, so I must be blunt. I am veela, Harry. My life, my magic, my passion, all are one flame. And now you are my hero, and my flame burns for you. If you claim your prize it will burn brighter than ever, but if you cast me aside it will fade away, and I will die."

Ginny and Hermione exchanged a knowing look, but Harry just stared at her blankly. Finally she decided she still wasn't being blunt enough, and tried again. "I mean sex, Harry. At least two or three times a month, for the rest of my life."

This time Harry managed to stop gaping at her after only a brief lapse. Still, it was such a shock that he found himself having trouble grasping the enormity of the situation. So he focused on his first instinct, which was of course to take care of everyone but himself. "Well, that sounds a bit awkward," he said slowly. "Especially for you, having to, um, that, with someone you don't care about."

"Oh, non, Harry!" Fleur shook her head emphatically. "No veela could be so cold! I told you, the flames of my passion burn for you now. Already I feel the pull, and it will grow much stronger. One night together, and I will love you as surely as any witch has ever loved a wizard. I will never feel desire for another man, and the more often we are together the stronger my feelings for you will grow."

"Oh," Harry replied vacantly. Nothing in his short life had prepared him for something like this. Beatings, starvation, ridicule, deadly danger - these were all familiar. But a hot veela girl throwing herself at him? No, that was too good to be true.

"You're having me on, aren't you?" He asked suspiciously. "You've got to be."

Fleur actually looked hurt for a moment. But then she sighed. "No, how could you know?" She said to herself, and stood. She'd pulled Harry and his companions into an empty classroom for this discussion, so there were no other witnesses, and she'd locked the door herself. Fortunately Ron hadn't been with them at the time.

"Harry, would I do this for a joke?" She said seriously. Then she tapped her uniform with the tip of her wand, and the fetching little dress unwrapped itself and fell to pool at her feel. Being veela she had no need of a bra, so her pert young breasts were left bare for all to see.

"Fleur!" Ginny protested. "What are you doing?"

"Proving to Harry that this is serious. Do you need more, Harry? Shall I take off my knickers? Perhaps, slip under that table and give you a little treat?"

"No," Harry managed to choke out. "I believe you. You wouldn't go this far for a joke."

"No," she replied. "I would not. My life is in your hands, Harry. I am sorry to ask so much of you, but what else can I do?"

"It can't be that hard," Hermione insisted, already pulling out a notepad and pen. "If an artifact as powerful as the Tri-Wizard Cup can be confunded to pick an extra contestant, it can't be that hard to fool your magic into thinking you're being...intimate...with Harry. We might need to use Draught of Living Death to buy enough time to iron out the arithmancy, but I'm sure it can be done..."

"Hermione, why on Earth would I want to do that?" Harry interjected. He stood, and put his hands on Fleur's shoulders. "Fleur, what this basically amounts to is us being lovers, right?"

"That...depends, Harry," she replied nervously. "Sometimes bonded lovers can find one another, or share feelings, or even share their magic. Also, a veela who beds a wizard often can sometimes be overwhelmed by her love, and find herself devoted beyond all reason." She sighed, and smiled softly. "Every veela dreams of such things, Harry. But it takes much shared passion to make the bond grow so strong, and a very powerful wizard, the sort who can banish a dozen dementors at once. It is easy enough to prevent, if you wish."

"Of course!" Hermione exclaimed. "You could visit one day a month, just enough to keep yourself healthy while we research this. That should keep you from getting too attached. Why, it might even be feasible to develop an artificial delivery method, if all you really need is magical contact..."

Despite Harry's best efforts his eyes dipped south as his bushy-haired friend babbled on, but then something wonderful happened. Instead of frowning, or turning away, or even looking disappointed, Fleur put her hands behind her slender waist and arched her back slightly. He stared at the twin peaks she was presenting for his inspection.. .and all at once, it hit him what she was doing. He raised his eyes to meet her gaze, and saw the desire there. Desire for him, the boy who had thought his name was Freak until he was six. Admiration, for the boy who had saved her life. And something else. Not love, but the desperate, longed-for potential for love. A love that would never fade, never be taken away for some mysterious, incomprehensible female reason. That would grow stronger, the more attention he gave her. That he could count on, no matter what his friends or dorm-mates or the press might stay, and no matter what new trials the coming years might bring.

"I've got a better plan," he interrupted. "Fleur, my record is actually about a hundred dementors. So what say I just shag you rotten every chance I get, and we face the world together?"

Fleur squealed in delight, and threw herself into his arms. "Oh, thank you, thank you 'arry! I swear, I will do everything I can to make you happy! You can have me every night, every morning, every afternoon, until I fall so hard I start calling you master and babbling to every witch I meet about what a wonderful lover you are!"

The two human girls in the room exchanged an alarmed look.

"But, Harry, you hardly know each other…" Hermione sputtered.

"Don't care." Harry replied smugly. He was rather enjoying the feel of Fleur's perky breasts pressing into his chest, and the fact that her nipples were hard as buttons wasn't lost on him. "We can get acquainted between bouts of hot veela sex."

"But, Harry, what if you don't fall in love?" Ginny protested.

Harry grinned down at the gorgeous creature in his arms. "Guess I'd have to make do with the sex. I think I'll survive."

"But, what if you fall in love with someone else?" Ginny insisted, more than a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

"I'll help you seduce her, Harry," Fleur promised with a saucy grin. "I love seducing pretty witches, especially the ones who think they're straight."

She gave the slender redhead an appraising look, and the younger girl blushed furiously and looked away.

"But, but, what if you don't get along?" Hermione interjected. "What if you argue all the time?"

"Makeup sex," Fleur countered.

"What if you aren't... compatible?" Ginny objected, beginning to sound a bit desperate.

Fleur arched one elegant eyebrow. "What part of 'I'm a magical sex object' do you not understand?"

"What if you just have different interests?" Hermione asked.

"Then I will learn to love the things Harry loves, so we can do them together," Fleur declared. Then she gave the bushy-haired genius a thoughtful look, and added, "or the people."

Hermione blushed slightly, and her gaze went to Harry. Fleur's smile widened a fraction, and she gave a barely perceptible nod.

Hermione smiled in relief. "In that case," she said as she gathered up her things, "maybe you're right, Harry. It isn't what I'd do, but then, you obviously aren't me. I hope it works out for you. Come along Ginny, let's give these two a little privacy."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry gave Fleur's slender form a gentle squeeze, and gazed into her eyes. "I think, for once, everything is going to work out just fine."

Then they kissed.

Ginny's indignant sputtering went entirely unnoticed.


	5. Chattel Wives

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**AN:** If you like my fanfiction, check out my original fiction over on FictionPress.

* * *

"I'm glad that's done," Harry muttered as he returned to his seat in the great hall. There was a smoking hole in his sleeve where Draco's last curse had nearly hit him, but overall the duel had been a crushing defeat for the wealthy Slytherin.

"Thank you, Harry," Daphne Greengrass said as she checked him for damage. "Being married to that pathetic fool would have been bad enough, but being made chattel-wife to his idiot minion is more than anyone could stand. I'd have been looking for a way to kill myself inside a week."

"Same here," Tracy Davis agreed. "The thought of Goyle touching me is just…ugh! Thank you so much for agreeing to help us."

"Not a problem, girls," Harry reassured them. "I can just imagine what those junior Death Eaters would have done with you, and I wouldn't leave any girl to a fate like that. I'm just glad Draco was dumb enough to accept a challenge for your contracts."

"So are we, Harry," Daphne replied. "There's no one else in the school we could trust with this. Of course, our fathers will have to pretend to be horrified or the Dark Lord will find another way to punish them. I just hope we can see our families again after the war is over."

"Don't worry, ladies, I'll make sure you're taken care of. Speaking of which, what exactly do I need to do to cancel your betrothal contracts?"

The Slytherin girls blinked at each other in surprise, and turned their gazes on Hermione.

"Granger? I thought you said you explained the situation?" Daphne asked sharply.

"There wasn't time to go through all the details," Hermione replied. "Term ends in a few hours, and your contracts go into effect tomorrow. If we'd missed Draco at the feast we might not have gotten another chance."

"I can tell I'm going to love this one," Harry interjected. "Alright, what did you 'not have time' to explain?"

"Our contracts can't be cancelled, Harry," Tracy explained nervously. "That's why we couldn't trust anyone else to save us. As of dawn tomorrow, Daphne and I are your chattel-wives. Legally we're your property, yours to do with as you please, and we will be for the rest of our lives."

Harry stared at her in shock. A long-suppressed portion of his subconscious coughed up some rather interesting images of what he could do with the two prettiest girls in Slytherin.

"Don't worry, Harry is far too much of a gentleman to take advantage of you," Hermione put in primly. "I suppose you'll have to live together to satisfy the terms of your contracts, but I'm sure Harry will let you finish your schooling and do whatever you like with your lives. Won't you, Harry?"

Harry groaned, and buried his face in his hands. "Sure. Whatever. This is going to be just loads of fun to explain to any girl I ever get serious with."

"Granger, you idiot!" Daphne hissed. "Our contracts merged when Harry claimed us, but they still count as a marriage contract under Ministry law. You should know you can only have one of those at a time. I'm sorry, Harry, but if there's another girl you're interested in you'd have to get her to sign a contract tonight. Otherwise the Ministry won't recognize another union."

"She's right, mate," Ron put in, having finally finished off his desert. "Sorry, I thought you knew. Pretty slick move actually, getting two hot birds at once like that. Er… I'm guessing you wouldn't be bashing your head on the table if you'd done it on purpose?"

"But… but… oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "I didn't realize! Darn it, there should be a pamphlet or something that explains all these outdated wizarding customs."

"That figures," Harry said resignedly. "Oh, well. I suppose I'm not likely to live that long anyway, am I? I'm going to go finish packing."

Little more was said until they boarded the train. Daphne and Tracy followed Harry at a discreet distance, keeping him in sight whenever possible while keeping up a whispered conversation. Their wait outside the door to the Griffindore common room was especially unpleasant, although Harry's last-minute conference with the Headmaster lasted longer. Through it all they stayed out of the way and left their new master to cool off. But when Harry moved to take a seat in a compartment Luna had claimed, they followed him in.

"Harry, can we please talk?" Daphne asked hesitantly. "I'm sorry about the situation, really. But we need to decide how we're going to handle things."

Hermione immediately dragged Ron off, making noises about a prefects' meeting. Tracy gave Luna an uncomfortable look.

"Do I need to leave too, Harry?" Luna asked curiously. "Because I was rather wondering how you were going to run your new harem. Are you taking applications?"

Harry choked, but Tracy gave the blonde Ravenclaw an appraising look. "This would be the time," she observed. "The Lovegoods are an old family, and Seer blood breeds strong magic. Not to mention that having a head wife who's still legally a person would make many things easier. What do you say, my lord?"

"I don't think I want to paint a target on anyone else's back," Harry replied.

"She's one of the Ministry Six," Daphne pointed out. "She's already marked for death, and there's strength in numbers. Come to think of it, isn't she the only one who came out of that affair uninjured?"

"The ruffldingers always tell me where the curses are going to land," Luna confided dreamily. "But if Harry doesn't want me, I'll make do with pudding."

She rose and drifted away, leaving Harry as confused as usual.

"Alright, so she's also a nutter," Tracy commented after a moment. "Not such a good addition, then. Did you want to make inquiries after the Weasley girl, my lord? Or perhaps Granger?"

"Hermione is not my favorite person right now," Harry growled. "And no, I lost interest in Ginny after the second time I heard one of her boyfriends going on about how much fun she is in a broom closet. Now, what did you two want? And what's with the 'my lord' business?"

"That's probably our contracts kicking in," Tracy speculated. "I hadn't even noticed myself doing it, but I remember there was a clause about being properly respectful."

Daphne nodded. "We wanted to know what we're going to do when we get off the train, my… um, Harry. Tracy and I are essentially disowned, so we've no place to go and no money but the bit we have left over from school. Also, we'd like to know what your expectations of us will be."

Harry sighed. "Fair enough. There's no way you could go back to Privet Drive with me, so I've arranged to spend the summer with my godfather. Mad Eye and Tonks are going to meet us at the station and escort us to… hmm… a place that's under the Fidelius charm. After that I'll make sure you're taken care of as best I can, although I suppose I'll have to check the state of my vault. Do your contracts say anything specific about what you have to do, or how I have to treat you, anything like that?"

Daphne lowered her gaze. "I have to address you with respect, obey both letter and spirit of any command you give me and keep your secrets faithfully. My magic will be bound to yours, which means I can't use it against you and you'll be a bit stronger whenever I'm nearby. Normally a marriage contract would have stipulations about providing for me in a proper manner, but since this was intended as a punishment they left those out."

Tracy nodded nervously. "Mine is the same. Well, and I'm required to be 'eagerly compliant' when you... um... consummate the bond, and every time afterwards."

"Is there anything that says we actually have to do that?" Harry asked sharply.

The Slytherin girls exchanged a startled glance.

"No," Daphne replied. "It's just assumed that you'll want to. But you didn't sign a contract, so there's no way the magic could force you to if you didn't want to. But why… um… are you a, ah, wizard's wizard?"

Harry flushed. "No. But I'm not going to be a rapist either, and that's pretty much what this would amount to. Daphne, Tracy, you don't owe me anything, and I'm not going to take advantage of either of you. I'm not rich like Malfoy, but my parents left me a lot of gold and I probably won't live long enough to spend it myself. If I survive this thing with Voldemort I should have enough pull to get the Ministry to break your contracts, and if not you'll both be free when I die."

"You sound like you plan on facing the Dark Lord yourself," Tracy said with a confused frown. "Don't you think it would be safer to keep our heads down, and let Dumbledore and his people fight the war?"

Harry sighed. "If only I could. There's this prophecy Dumbledore told me about just a few days ago…"

-oOoOo-

"Harry, can we have some money for shopping?" Daphne asked sweetly. "Tracey and I hardly have anything but our uniforms to wear."

Harry shrugged, and fished out the vault key he'd argued Dumbledore into giving him before leaving Hogwarts. "Sure. But you'd better get Tonks or Remus to go with you, just in case."

"Couldn't you come with us, Harry?" Tracey asked slyly. "We could get you a few things while we're at it."

He shook his head. "No, that would be begging the Death Eaters to try something. I can't go much of anywhere without a big escort, and Dumbledore doesn't arrange that kind of thing very often. But you two have fun."

"Ok, Harry," Tracey replied. "Your loss."

Half an hour later the two girls stood in front of the Potter trust vault, eying the stacks of gold within.

"Harry really is kind of an idiot sometimes, isn't he?" Daphne commented.

"Completely," Tracey agreed. "It's bad enough he doesn't have the balls to do anything with us, even when he knows we're a sure thing. But giving us his vault key without saying a word about what we can do with it? That was just stupid."

"Why, Tracey, you almost sound like you don't intend to help our noble master face down the Dark Lord single-handedly," Daphne replied. "Surely you plan to stay here and chastely support the hero of Britain in his hour of need?"

"Ha!" Tracey scoffed. "I'd prefer to live out the year, if it's all the same to you. So it looks like, what, about a hundred and fifty thousand galleons? I say we take fifty thousand apiece and hop an international portkey while we can. Think the Americans would give us asylum?"

Daphne laughed. "Two pretty teenage witches bound in magical slavery at the command of the most feared Dark Lord in the world? They'll have us in protective custody before we can blink. Harry will never find us before the Dark Lord kills him, and once that happens our contracts are moot. But fifty thousand isn't that much to make a new start with. Why did you want to leave the rest?

"Because the Americans might make us give it back if Harry complains," Tracey explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But it sounds like he never visits here personally, and when I snooped through his things earlier I didn't find any financial records. As long as he can buy school things next year I don't think he'll even notice the money is gone."

"Good point. Alright then, America here we come."


End file.
